


Hamilton's Shield

by RosieTwiggs



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, adorableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTwiggs/pseuds/RosieTwiggs
Summary: Thomas names the constellations of freckles on Flint's body.





	Hamilton's Shield

**Author's Note:**

> First Black Sails fic. Enjoy. <3

It’s one of those rare nights where the warm air works as its own blanket, and the mosquitos are not yet a problem of the season. On nights like these, the darkness gently surrounds those who willingly give themselves over to it, and two lovers might find comfort in moonlight, and the scent of tobacco leaves, and the salty tang of sweat drying on sun-kissed skin.

They’re far away from the complex, having slipped out just after dinner. Their breathing is still slowing, bodies spent, and it doesn’t matter that they are out in the open, with nothing but the trees and the night to give them cover, James has never felt more secure than at Thomas’s side, has never felt more content.

Grass tickles his back, and Thomas’s fingers mirror the sensation on Flint’s chest, tracing down along his sides, circling his navel. A soft laugh escapes him, drawing Thomas’s eyes up to his own. His mouth quirks in the smallest of grins, and Flint wants to kiss him again. But Thomas is distracted once more, trailing fingers along the left side of his stomach, and James sighs into the touch, his heart rate settling back down at last.

With a sudden frown, Thomas glances up at the clear sky above them, and then back down once more.

“You know...” He speaks at last, clearing the silence from his throat. “This group of freckles, right here,” his thumb brushes across it, and James glances down, “it almost looks like Leo Minor.” 

Flint raises an eyebrow and Thomas can’t seem to help rolling his eyes. “It does. Look.” He points up to the sky, at each of the stars in turn. “They’re faint, but you see those four-”

“I know what Leo Minor is.” Flint’s voice is a quiet rumble, both  _of_ the night and separate from it.

“Right,” Thomas looks abashed for a moment. “Naval officer. Pirate. I forgot...”

Flint bites his tongue. He doubts that very much. He still hasn’t been able to recount everything to Thomas about their years apart, but he’s told him enough. More than Thomas would ever be likely to forget. Yet despite his fear, despite his regrets and shame, Thomas’s constant assurances that nothing Flint ever told him could change his heart have begun to heal a ten year old wound, slowly but surely.

“Here, look.” He traces nearly the same shape on Flint’s stomach. The shape of the diamond is clustered more closely together, but otherwise it’s almost the same. “It’s a bit more condensed... I suppose calling it the smaller lion wouldn’t quite work in this case. Perhaps we could call it “The Kitten”.

He laughs for real this time, long and loud and clear. His laughter rings in his ears and feels a rush of love for Thomas for being the only one who could possibly cause it.

“The Kitten? Really?” Thomas grins at him and shrugs. “Sounds quite fierce.”

“Oh it is. Have you never seen a kitten hunt a string?”

But now Thomas seems to need to know if there are any other constellations to discover. He explores Flint’s body like a canvas of night sky he intends to conquer. His eyes and fingers are busy, tracing everything, intent on the astronomy of his chest. His arms. His hips.

Flint bites his lip, feeling his touch like a charge in a storm as Thomas turns him gently.

“This one, here,” Thomas says at last, kissing a spot on Flint’s lower back reverently. He tries to get a look at the spot over his shoulder, but he can’t, so he simply gives himself over instead to the feeling of Thomas’s warm breath on his skin.

He points up and Flint follows the line of his finger. “Lacerta? The Lizard? Are you saying I have a lizard directly above my ass?”

“Hush, you. But yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Though... it’s not _quite_ the same.” Thomas is furrowing his brow, and James may not be able to see the freckles in question, but he’s enjoying Thomas’s focus. “Perhaps it’s more like... a frog?”

Flint drops his head, grinning. “You seem determined to name my freckles any number of unassuming and unmanly creatures. I suppose I must become resigned...”

“Oh, now. We can’t have that. I’m sure I can find something...”

He turns Flint back again and sets to his task with renewed vigor. Flint simply closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy it.

“Here,” he says at last, his hand splayed directly over the center of Flint’s chest. “Look.” He points at a constellation and Flint squints up at the night sky. 

“The Shield?”

“Yes. This one is more spread out, but it’s right here.” Thomas traces the pattern of freckles and he’s right, it’s wider, but nearly the same.

“A shield” he says, “for your heart, and for mine.  _Hamilton’s Shield_.”

The silence surrounds them, deeper than before while the world holds its breath for the number of heartbeats it takes for Flint to lean up and kiss him, their hands entwined against Flint’s chest.

Their whispered words are swallowed by the night’s breeze as they move together, the darkness engulfing them, and shielding them from the world around them.

 


End file.
